


Caught Up In The Rewind

by orphan_account



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), descendants - Fandom
Genre: Bisexuality Gone Rampant, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Overpowered characters, Protective Jay, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, United States of Auradon (Disney) Is Not Perfect, basically the gang go back in time to prevent a bad future, but y’know what i don’t give a hecc, they are badass af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 07:48:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Basically everything goes bad for the gang and then through a magical manner they get sent back in time to their teenager bodies on the Isle.





	1. Chapter 1

Jay woke up with a pounding headache, and he wondered, absently, how he had survived that blow to his temple. He let out a long, drawn-out groan, every bit of his discomfort squeezed into the sound.

He sat up slowly, stretching his stiff limbs languidly, eyelids drifting open to allow him to survey his surroundings. He blinked once, then twice, his brain struggling to cope with the impossible sight before him.

He was in the back of his father’s shop, a thin patchwork blanket draped over his too-large body. His back hurting from the night he’d spent on the rickety wood floors and his stomach was growling, hunger pains assaulting his stomach.

_Well this is a very vivid dream, _he thought, dumbfounded by the situation he’d found himself in. It _had _to be a dream, because Jafar’s shop had been in ruins for years, having been demolished by the Auradonian’s attack on the Isle.

Jay had been there, afterwords, his feelings a jumbled mess of satisfaction and devastation. Mal had put a hand on his shoulder, a grim look on her face, and she had told him, in a voice so soft he almost hadn’t recognized it as hers, that it was okay to feel what he was feeling. 

“Its okay, Jay. You don’t have to be strong for us, anymore.” He wondered how she always seemed to read him so effortlessly, even as his expression was schooled into one of indifference. He tore his gaze from her mint-green eyes and burn-scarred skin, and turned back to the wreckage of his childhood home.

It hadn’t been a true home, not with his father living under it’s roof. The shop was not a guarantee of safety, as his father would turn to punches and kicks if his son didn’t bring in enough loot. But it had been a witness to his early life, a place where he had stitched up his first deadly wound, a place where he had slept and ate and _lived_.

So when it was gone, when the Auradonians, with shining armor strapped to their scarless bodies, had stormed the Isle and burned every forest and building in sight, he didn’t know how to feel. He was relieved. He felt like a weight had been lifted from him. But then he felt pain, because of all the places he’d lived, this one was the one he had grown up in, and it meant something to him.

But it _had _gotten destroyed, and he had seen the splintered beams and the shattered ceiling tiles _himself,_ and he absolutely _had _to be dreaming right now, because how else would he be seeing the shop, after all these years.

And then he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in a long time, and he immediately got chills. “Get up you lazy brat,” Jafar snapped irritably. “The shop won’t stock itself.”

His father was standing off to the side, clad in a ratty pair of jeans and a red shirt with a stain running down the front. He had been dusting off the shelves of merchandise, and had paused briefly to send a withering glare at Jay. “I’d prefer it if you did what I asked you to do today, boy.”

Jay just stared at the man, taking in his rumpled clothes and all-around scruffy appearance. He wondered how he’d ever been afraid of this wreck of a man. _You were afraid because he beat you senseless every time you dared not to be._

Then Jay got up, shaking himself from his stupor. He strolled off into the shop, his gut guiding his movements as his brain was no longer able to understand the life he had once lived. His eyes found a door in the back wall and his arm moved before he had even made up his mind about opening it.

At first he only walked, his face an odd mixture of awe and disgust. He saw old faces he thought he’d never see again. He saw children nicking food off of fruit stands in the marketplace and getting chased away by the owner when they were discovered.

It was easy to hate, the Isle. It was full of so much suffering and was created as a byproduct of bad decisions. Jay hated that this was real. He wanted this to be fake, to be a joke, or a dream. He really did.

But it was far too real for him to convince himself otherwise. He walked alongside the rundown shops, watching their keepers as their glaring, angry gazes turned to him.

A slow panic seized him, and he paced a bit on the streets, his feet moving uselessly as he searched for answers. _How was he here? Why? Was he going to be here all alone, with no one else who has seen what I’ve seen? _All at once he started running, unsure where his feet were taking him, but part of him knew the path and screamed _safety. We’re going to safety. Going home._

He practically flew through the streets, feet barely touching the ground as he jumped. He twisted his body to avoid every sharp edge he had been so familiar with in his childhood, his anxiety rising within him as he slid through a narrow alley.

There it was, a tall pipe, made of cold, dingy metal, and at the sight his mind calmed, the realization settling within him. As if seeing the shop standing and hearing his father’s voice hadn’t been enough. Now he was going to find the Alstero—another thing that had been destroyed in the burning of the Lost Isle—and Jay didn’t know if he could handle that.

Jay started to climb, his strong muscles pulling him up the pipe with practiced ease. He might not remember all that well after all that had happened to him, but his muscles sure did now, and he was at the top in seconds. 

He flung himself onto the roof of the building the pipe was attached to, his limbs shaky from excitement and nearly making him fall. He almost cried at the view when he was able to look.

The shack was still there, spray painted blue and purple and red to high hell, the wood untouched by the war and all it’s monstrosities. It was as if nothing ever had happened at all.

The door looked new, not like the old, falling apart door he remembers having snagged from the Isle so long ago. He had taken one look at it, the only thing salvageable of the whole thing, and he had taken it and hidden it away.

But now here it was, new and relatively untouched, and completely and utterly _impossible. _Jay hadn’t truly believed it before but he believed it now.

Not even in his dreams could he conjure the Alstero in all its glory. Maybe some spray painted wood, maybe some splinters falling like snow, but never _the Alstero._

”Jay?” He froze momentarily. Then he spun around to see Mal, in the process of swinging her feet onto the roof. Her face was a mixture of surprise and something else he couldn’t identify. “Am I dreaming, Jay?”

Jay cracked a dry smile, fear hiding behind his eyes. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone in this, his mind screamed at him. He felt relieved he had someone else here with him, but scared out of his mind too. _What if I can’t protect her? What if I fail her this time too? _“I don’t think it’s possible to share a dream, Mal.” 

Her chin quivered, and she took a few unsteady steps towards him, tears building in her eyes. She tilted her head down to hide them behind her bangs, but Jay saw them.

He walked to her and gathered her in his arms, pretending he was just doing it for her, pretending he wasn’t crying too.

She knew, though. He could tell. She always did. Her, Evie and Carlos had always been able to read him like an open book. Once, it had annoyed him like nothing else. Now, it was one of the only comforts he had—_not being alone._

Jay stayed like that for a bit, but the seconds that passed seemed too quick. Before he knew it, he was leaning back out of the embrace and cupping Mal’s face in his smaller, teenage boy hands.

He drank in her features—her green eyes, her pale skin, the tiny scar on the left side of her chin—all of it was her, and all of it made him feel safe.

”How did we get here, Mal?” He asked, knowing she couldn’t answer. He laughed bitterly, the noise dying into a sad whimper. “How did we get here?”

She simply stroked his cheek with her fingers, a small, pitiful grin gracing her lips. “I don’t know, Jay. I just remember Maleficent hitting you with a blast of fire and then...my world went dark.”

”Well, at least we aren’t the only crazy ones,” came a cool voice from over Mal’s shoulder. Jay and Mal froze, his heart constricting in his chest. _That voice...it was..._

When he saw them, his head went fuzzy for a minute. They were side by side, both of their faces stained with tears and their hands intertwined. Their faces, the ones that were free of scars and young and innocent, but with eyes just as old as the ones he remembered.

Carlos was the first to crack a smile, and then he even laughed a bit, the action sending a surge of affection through Jay. “Who knew that while I was panicking in a fur closet this morning, you two were getting cozy without us!”

Evie didn’t smile, she just scrunched up her eyebrows and frowned exaggeratedly in mock-hurt. “Yeah, Carlos, you’re right. I’m kind of hurt, actually, that I wasn’t invited.” She smoothed her expression into a flirty one and sent Mal and Jay a wink.

Mal rolled her eyes dramatically, and Jay just grinned, too happy with their presence to be annoyed. He nearly tackled them both to the ground with his hug, ignoring the small indignant yelp Carlos made in response.

He held them for a bit, both of them complaining the entire time. “You’re too heavy,” Evie whined, but she was giggling. Carlos had ceased verbal complaints, resorting to the brilliant idea of physical violence and kicking at Jay’s legs.

He could see Mal above them, trying to look disapproving, trying to fight off the grin that tugged at her lips.

At least Jay wasn’t alone in this. At least the universe still allowed him them.


	2. Chapter 2

Jay had always felt inadequate. Maybe it came from the way his father constantly berated him for not being quick enough to swipe a necklace unnoticed or strong enough to carry heavier loot. 

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because of the gaunt faces of his crew—a crew that he was never good enough to keep safe and healthy the way he wanted.

Whatever the reason, Jay wasn’t feeling inadequate now. He felt pretty damn good about his chances, actually. With another decade or so of combat experience under his belt, Jay, in all his thirteen year old glory, was ready and determined to shake the Isle to it’s core.

Or, well, that’s what he wanted to do. Unfortunately, Carlos de Vil had other plans. Now, he could always ignore them, but unfortunately, Carlos was a member of his crew, and one of his partners, and that meant he had to hear him out. 

Well, that and the fact that Carlos was the only one of them with impulse control and more than a few brain cells and was probably right.

“But I really want to fight someone,” Mal whined, shoulders slumped and her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Everyone will be so easy to destroy, now!”

“And I,” Carlos said a bit bitterly, “want an explanation as to why I, a twenty-six year old man, am stuck in my twelve-year old body. We don’t always get what we want. Suck it up.”

They were huddled in the Alstero, limbs tangled together in an exhausted mess of teenage angst and comfort. Carlos’s head was resting on Mal’s stomach. Evie’s feet were in his lap, and he traced shapes into the skin of her ankle. Evie was laying on Jay, who wrapped her up like a boa constrictor as she played with Mal’s hair.

Their initial euphoria at being all together again and alive had worn off. It was replaced by a jumble of emotions. One of them was dread. A dark, sinking feeling that permeated the atmosphere and made them feel heavy. Because what if they were back here for nothing? What if they would only watch the world burn again? What if it was worse this time around?

“Any theories yet, Carlos?” Evie muttered, a little sarcastically, half joking and half desperately serious.

“I mean...I don’t know. It could’ve been one of Maleficent’s spells going haywire. She was kind of losing her control towards the end of that fight.”

Now Jay remembered _that _perfectly. He’d never seen so many floating monkeys before. No, he was pretty sure that day had been the first time he’d ever seen a flying monkey, much less a dozen or so that twittered like birds and had bright green fur. It had been a weird day.

Mal let out an unladylike snort before cackling aloud. The rest of them watched her, Carlos lifting his head to see her as she sat up and wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.

“What are you laughing about?” Evie asked, smiling anyway. 

Mal’s happiness had always been particularly infectious, and none of them could resist a grin. The sight of her reddened face and bright eyes and the sound of her clumsy laughter was enough to lift some of the doom and gloom that blanketed the Alstero. 

“Its just,” Mal said, gasping out her words, “can you imagine? What if my m-mom sent herself back here as a thirteen year old?”

That sent Jay and Evie into hysterics, both of them imagining a tiny, barely teenaged Maleficent trying to intimidate the Isle into doing her bidding. They would’ve eaten her alive.

Carlos was frowning now, but his lips twitched like he was fighting off a smile. “It’s not that funny guys. Please be mature about this. We are literal time travelers, you doofuses.”

“We know we are literal time travelers,” Evie smiled mischievously. “I just wish time travel had fixed your sense of hum—ow!”

Carlos stood up, looking smug as Evie rubbed her injured arm and glared at him from her spot on the floor. He made his way to the door, opening it the slightest bit. 

Pale, muted light, pierced through the darkness of the dimly lit shack, and a thin stripe of it landed on Mal’s face, causing her to groan in annoyance.

“Sorry,” he whispered, closing the door with a apologetic wince. “I just wanted to see the city again. It’s just...been so long since I’ve seen it.”

Jay could sympathize. He thought he could understand how Carlos had felt, back then. When the Isle burned. Charred buildings replaced their old haunts and familiar faces floated in the harbor after they’d drowned themselves trying to escape the flames. And now it was all back, and as terrible as this place was, it was a familiar, and comforting kind of terrible.

“Hey,” Jay said warbled softly, getting up to wrap an arm around Carlos’s shaking shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s real.”

A minute or so passed in companionable silence, each of them soaking in the presence of the others—something they had been doing since they’d woken up in this world. 

“You know,” Evie said at last, “this means we have to go back to our parents. We have to live with them, eat with them, and breathe the air they breathe.”

The thought made all of them tense—some more than others. Carlos, who had always gotten the worst treatment from his mother out of all of them, let out an audible cry, tears building in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks.

The other three let out various noises of surprise and concern, crowding around him. Jay wrapped him up in a hug from behind and Mal grasped his face and dotted it with kisses. Evie ran a hand through his hair and used her other hand to hold his. They were quiet and patient, waiting for his sobs to subside.

“I don’t want to go back,” he whispered, and Jay hummed in acknowledgement before planting a kiss on his head. “I don’t want to see her again. Not alive.”

The last two words made Evie startle slightly. She pulled back from her soothing, an odd look on her face. The rest of them watched her, their faces scrunched up in confusion. 

“Wait,” she said, wide-eyed and excited. “What if we don’t have to go back?”

“What,” Mal enunciated slowly, “do you mean, Evie? We have to go back, or they’ll just hunt us down and make things even worse for us when they find us.”

Jay realized it at the same time Carlos did, judging by the way the smaller boy jolted in his arms. The only ways they could escape their parents is if they left the Isle or killed their parents, and seeing as it would be some time before King Benjamin would send for them, he could guess which option Evie was referring to.

“Evie, no!” Carlos gasped out. “We can’t kill them!”

“Why not?” She questioned him angrily. “I’m an assassin, Carlos! I have been for over twelve years! I can do it flawlessly! No one would even know it was me!”

“Wait,” Mal said, snapping her fingers in realization. “No, we should make it a public execution.”

“What?” Carlos had wrenched himself from Jay’s grip, backing himself up against the back wall of the Alstero. He looked shaken, like he was a cornered animal.

“Yeah, think about it! It would do wonders for our reputation! I know you aren’t a fan of intimidation, but it works, Pup—“

“Shut up!” Carlos screeched, silencing them. “You can’t just kill her! She’ll skin you alive!”

For a moment or two, he was confused. He couldn’t understand how Carlos could have such low expectations for them. He was almost offended, really. They had been training beside him for...well, Jay doesn’t even know how many years, and Carlos still thought Cruella was strong enough to beat Evie, of all people?

When it dawned on him, Jay shared a knowing look with his girls. They should’ve seen this reaction coming, really. Carlos, blinded by years of seemingly inescapable abuse, still saw his mother as the horrific, infinitely powerful person she had been at the end of her life. He didn’t see her as they saw her (how she was now), as a frail old woman who lacked a single bone of empathy in her body.

Carlos was hyperventilating now, eyes shut as tears steadily flowed down his face and soaked his shirt. He slid down the wall of the Alstero, hiding his head in his hands and trying to muffle his sobs. The sight alone brought a lump to Jay’s throat.

“Spots,” Jay said softly, walking over and kneeling down beside him. “Come on, Pup. Its okay. You’re okay—we’re okay. Our parents can’t hurt us anymore. They can’t, I promise.”

“I j-just,” Carlos stuttered helplessly, “don’t want you guys to end up in one of her tapestries.”

The mood in the room darkened further, and images flashed through Jay’s mind at a frightening speed. Images from before the burnings. Images of large tapestries covering the stone walls of Carlos’s childhood home. Images of tapestries sewn from human hides. 

Jay remembers that he had almost been a part of that tapestry. He remembers the way Cruella had prepared her knife, the sound of her sharpening it with a metal tool echoing in his ears. Jay realized, with slight surprise, that it had him shaking, even after all this time.

He nearly jumped in shock when he felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. He angled his head up and over his shoulder and found Evie’s eyes staring back at him. While the rest of her face was unreadable, her dark eyes were sad and tired. She looked like she wanted to hug him, but she probably knew better than to do so.

He turned away from her, attention landing back on Carlos, and the way he was staring adamantly down at the floor, determined not to look at them, and wiping his snot away on his sleeve pathetically.

Jay sighed, eyes closing, shoulders sagging, and he choked out: “we don’t want that to happen to you, either, Carlos. That’s why we want to do this. To make sure she never hurts you again.”

Carlos took a steadying breath, sniffled a bit more, and tried to calm himself down. Jay heard him shuffle around a little more, and Jay almost thought it was the wind when he heard Carlos’s next words, spoken so quietly they were barely audible at all.

“S-she,” he said, voice wobbling and breaking, “used to call my freckles pretty. Used to say they were like Dalmatian spots. She said if I ever slipped up...if I...if I ever messed up too bad...she’d make me into a coat, and hang me in her closet.”

Jay’s eyes snapped open and he reached out and took Carlos’s hand in his own. He cradled it in both hands, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it. He hoped Carlos knew what it meant. He hoped Carlos knew that he loved him, and was there for him. They all were.

Carlos flushed and looked away, and the sight of his reddened cheeks made Jay’s heart ache in the best of ways. A defensive scowl replaced Carlos’s frown, he didn’t move his hand. He was always bad at accepting affection. The familiarity of it was comforting. 

Carlos’s tone was almost calm when he said his next words: “she said I’d be more useful as a coat, anyway.”

“You have to know that’s not true.” Evie said, looking distressed. 

“Well I don’t feel particularly useful right now—“

“Shut up,” Mal interrupted from Evie’s side. “We’re all kind of floundering here. None of us know what we’re doing, Carlos. Stop holding yourself to a standard you can’t even hold us to, okay?”

There was a tense silence. Carlos refused to look any of them in the eye, instead focusing on the door behind them. Jay rubbed his thumb over Carlos’s knuckles in a way that he hoped was soothing and not suffocating.

Finally, Carlos lifted his head slightly to meet Mal’s intense emerald gaze. Something passed between the two of them—some kind of secret conversation communicated through their expressions that Evie and Jay weren’t privy to. Then their faces loosened, and a tired but undeniably fond smile rose on Carlos’s lips. 

“Okay.” Carlos breathed. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid,” Evie reassured him softly, her warm brown eyes fixed on his face. “You’re being human.”

“Ugh,” Mal said. “That reminds me—do I have to pretend that I don’t have wings? Do I have to pretend I’m not an actual faerie this time?”

Carlos, Evie, and Jay all shared a look of mutual exasperation. Mal was terrible at reading the room. Always had been. 

“I literally don’t know if it matters, really. They’ll see me as a threat either way, and can you honestly see me making it even a quarter of the way through the year without slipping up and summoning a warm glass of cocoa in class?”

“No, I can’t—“ Evie tried to contribute, before getting interrupted by an oblivious Mal.

“In all seriousness, though, if I have to pretend to not have powers I’m going to lose my mind—“

“Mal,” Jay cut in, standing up, his voice saccharine and smooth. “Shut the fuck up, please, before I walk out of this shack and throw myself off of the roof.”

Mal shoved him into the wall of the Alstero, a vibrant flush of embarrassment high on her cheeks. Jay just laughed at her and pinched her cheek, his hand getting swatted away almost immediately after.

Carlos smiled at them from his spot on the floor, eyes gleaming with something Jay couldn’t place. He wasn’t really trying hard to place it anyway, though, because he was currently in the middle of a petty slap fight with Mal.

“Well,” Evie said after a moment, clearing her throat to catch their attention. “Is it still a no? To the, uh...suggestion of homicide?” 

There was a long moment of consideration, and Jay knew the answer before any of them voiced it.

“I, for one,” Jay said shakily, “have always felt an immense desire to murder my father with a lamp.”


	3. Chapter 3

Days on the Isle were never particularly warm, but it was a million times worse at night. Most people would stay indoors if they could, and the ones who couldn’t were left to huddle in their groups for warmth. 

If you didn’t have a group—depending on the time of year—it could mean the end of the line for you.

Carlos, despite his many problems, had never really had to worry about freezing to death on the streets before. He’d always had a warm place to sleep, even if it was in the back of his mother’s fur closet surrounded by bear traps and a chaotic mixture of coats made from both animal and human skin.

Tonight, Carlos wouldn’t have a warm place to stay. He wouldn’t be going back to his mother’s fur closet. He refused to. Nothing in the world could get him to go back there (except his partners, but that was a given).

He’d tried his hardest to convince the others that he was fine, that he didn’t need to be babied. He could find a place to stay. They didn’t need to help him, he was fine on his own.

They hadn’t bought any of it. They had all stared him down with similarly unimpressed looks that had him avoiding eye contact and nervously shifting on his feet.

In the end, he wound up staying with Mal. Yeah. That had surprised him, too. What would she do if her mother found out?

When asked this, Mal’s only response was a flippant: “she doesn’t really care who I bring home or why as long as I still do what she wants me to.”

Carlos had asked: “what does that entail?”

Mal had given him a dry look. “Killing people. Collecting information. The works.”

Right. That made sense.

So anyway, here Carlos was, shielded from the frigid weather by the walls of a—mansion? Castle? Did it really matter?

Mal seemed to be taking to this change very well, if the way she had curled around him as soon as he had got into bed said anything.

“Didn’t know you were such a cuddler.” He remarked, flushed with embarrassment as he was hugged like a stuffed animal. 

Damn. Mal really didn’t know her own strength, even now, that her muscles were smaller any weaker than they had been before.

“Only when it comes to things I love.” Mal assured him, smiling into his shoulder. 

“You’re disturbingly sappy, and I hate you.”

-0-

Chad woke up on his birthday with an excruciating headache and an intact throat. He nearly passed right back out from shock. 

He combed a hand through his blond curls, wincing at the sweat that soaked them. He must’ve looked like an absolute mess. 

He was glad the servants weren’t the ones to wake him up. They probably would’ve declared him deathly ill the moment they laid eyes on him and sent the whole castle into a state of panic.

He was breathing heavily, rubbing frantically at his throat. His heart was beating out of control as he tried to piece together what was happening.

He had died just minutes before, with gritted teeth, as he stood defiantly before his father for the first time in his entire life. And then he’d felt a cold knife tear into his throat. He had fallen to his knees, and then sagged forwards as the life left his body. 

He had been dead, and yet here he was, surrounded by the blue walls of his childhood bedroom, feeling like someone was bouncing a metal ball around his skull.

“Well,” he muttered to himself, wincing at his prepubescent voice as he heard it. “This is fucking glamorous.”

-0-

The first thing Aubrey noticed is that she was surprisingly warm. After having passed out in a snowdrift, that was really the last thing she expected to wake up to. 

She was also somewhere relatively safe, seeing that she no longer felt the searing pain she’d dealt with earlier from the stab wound in her abdomen. That was also the last thing she had expected to wake up to, is she was being honest.

If anything, she expected to wake up in hell, or wherever confusing people like her went when they died.

She was in a chair, her head cradled in her folded arms. Arms that rested on a sturdy table in front of her. 

When Aubrey became aware of this, she immediately stifled all signs of her being awake, unsure where she was and frightened by not knowing.

Had she been captured by the Villains? Had she been taken back in by the Royals? Had her troops survived the battle and dragged her home?

After a few minutes of silence, she slowly lifted her head and opened her eyes, wary, but knowing she was alive, and therefore still had work to do.

When her gaze met her childhood desk, Aubrey blinked rapidly a few times, trying to puzzle out what she was looking at.

Hadn’t her desk went up in flames like the rest of her home, after the Villains had launched their first attack?


End file.
